


A Way to Pass the Time -- Turned Flipways

by certainlyAmbiguous



Series: Passing Time [2]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-29
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 07:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certainlyAmbiguous/pseuds/certainlyAmbiguous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave tries very hard not to think about some things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You’re pretty busy distracting yourself when Tavros brings it up.  
  
He quietly stammers your name and you listen, not looking away or missing a beat in your button mashing.  
  
“I… I think I need to leave for a while,” he says, and you wonder why he’s telling _you_. You’re not his fairy god bull whatever, he doesn’t have a curfew.  
  
“I just… It kind of seems like I’m, uhh—” He goes quiet for a moment. If Tavros thinks you’re going to hold his hand while he steps out the door and immediately gets lost, he’s wrong. You can only get so turned around in a shitty little hell bubble. He’d find his way back quickly enough alone.  
  
“It kind of seems like you only pay attention to me when you want…” His voice breaks a little, and your eyebrows come together slightly behind your fringe. Funny how that sentence seemed to have nothing to do with anything.  
  
“Dave, I just need to know that you care about me.” He speaks quickly, voice raising slightly with every word. “That you want me around for more than just a way to pass the time!”  
  
For the next fourty-one point three seconds, you feel as if your brain has shut down. Like it’s run up against a wall or a screen perhaps, making it impossible for your totally not conflicted thoughts and feelings splash all over your face. During that last second you consider that the screen may be blue, and that you may be grateful for it.  
  
On the controller in your hands, your thumb slips, and your guy goes careening _into_ a rail. He gets stuck there, and you stare blankly at the television as your score skyrockets from the crazyfake amounts of air the glitch is assuming you’re obtaining. Be sweet if you could actually save and keep the points, but you’ll have to shut down if you want to go on, and then you’ll be pointless. Just like the idiotic fucking game. You’re not even sure why you play it anymore.  
  
Well, maybe you are, but you’re not going to give thoughts like that the time of day.  
  
Or night. Whatever. You haven’t gone outside in a while, so you don’t know either way, and you don’t care, and even if you did care, what would it matter? You’re dead. It’s not like you  need the fake fresh air or the false sunlight.  
  
“Dave?” Tavros’ voice at that moment may or may not make you feel a pang in your chest where your heart would be. If you had one. You swallow thickly and take in a silent breath to steady your entirely unfrayed nerves. You blink, slow and deliberate. “Please say something.”  
  
Your hands relax around the controller in your lap and you almost start to drop your head into your hands, but you catch yourself before it happens. A show of emotion like that would be totally unacceptable on your part. If you let stuff like that slip, who knows what’ll slither out behind it? You’re pretty certain you don’t want to know, so you stop that train of thought before it can pick up any speed. This is a no train zone, fuck trains. Trains do not pass go, do not collect $200. You’re not even supposed to be on this part of the board, train, what are you even doing?  
  
There is a part of you, though, that is painfully aware of how blatantly you are ignoring what is actually going on in your mind, in the room, and it thinks that maybe you’re getting a little hysterical. You tell that part to calm its tits and shut the hell up.  
  
“You don’t…” his voice pulls you out of your head, and your eyebrows lower for the second time. You might even be frowning. “You don’t think I’ll go? Because I will.”  
  
You don’t, not really. You know for a fact that he doesn’t want to be alone. You’re pretty sure you don’t want to be alone, either. So, he wouldn’t, because you both know it’s better if you just not-be-alone together. Anything else is nonsensical to you. When he actually backpedals toward the door, you whip your head in his direction. Well, not so much ‘whip’ as ‘casually look toward’. With just those words, that movement, he has your nonexistent heart hammering. You feel your ears burning, and have the  ~~gall~~ presence of mind  to be glad your hair is half covering them. Maybe you believe him a little now.  
  
“I can’t keep staying here if, uhh, if _that’s_ all you want from me,” Tavros continues, and you find that your breath is coming more rapidly than you like, that your face has actually screwed up against your will for the space of a second. You reign in your breathing and swallow down what is in no way, shape, or form panic. You’ve got this. No problem. There’s no way he’ll keep talking like this if you ask him to stay. Persuade him with your lips, your fingers, your warmth. ~~He has to know you need him with you. Has to know how desperately afraid you are of being alone. He wouldn’t just abandon you.~~  
  
You rise to your feet to go to him, but he stops you short with his hands upraised.  
  
“No,” he says, and for a long moment, he doesn’t even look at you. ~~There it is, again, that visceral fear, deep in your chest. Why is it so hard to keep your face straight?~~  
  
“Just say something. Tell me you want me to stay. Tell me things can be different, and I-I’ll stay,” he stutters, and you want to clutch at your chest. You know the sentiment is there, but after burying every hint of emotion and truth in miles of bullshit for as long as you can remember, after having it hammered into your head for so many years that showing your feelings or your true intentions is always, _always_ the wrong response, you can’t even bring the words up far enough to choke on them.  
  
The tears standing in Tavros’ eyes start to fall, and it hurts you more than a blade through the chest.  
  
“O-okay,” he says quietly, abruptly. “Okay. I’m going back to my hive.”  
  
Your lips part, but he’s out the door before you can speak past the lump in your throat.


	2. Chapter 2

The feelings are so familiar.

The tightness in your chest, the fight to keep from sobbing outright. Like an old friend, except it’s a douche bag from one of the schools you were kicked out of for bringing weapons and stealing formaldehyde. A person you were hoping to never see again, but now they’re here and it’s all you can fucking do not to punch in their stupid judgemental face. So, less friend and more person you never wanted to see again. The feelings are in stark contrast to the one you typically express, the one you’re trying to express now, the one that isn’t an emotion so much as not expressing emotion at all.

You’re rooted to the spot, and once you realize that you haven’t moved, you know exactly how long you stood there, staring stupidly at the door ~~expecting~~ ~~hoping~~ waiting for Tavros to reappear. You stood there for too long, and even if you darted to the window now, you’re not sure you’ll even be able to see his back as he goes. You stood there, and you continue to stand there, trying very hard not to think about how he’s leaving you— leaving you like everyone else has, and how it isn’t as if you deserve company anyway. You don’t want to be alone, but maybe you deserve it for dying before you could accomplish anything, for being an insufferable prick.

Maybe you deserve the pain, so maybe this is for the best.


End file.
